Telling
by Briticism
Summary: [The Brittas Empire]: Teenage Tim is very scared about something he feels he has to do. Gavin supports him in his decision.
1. Hummingbird

Disclaimer: I do not own The Brittas Empire or its' characters, nor am I receiving any money for writing this.

A/N: Thanks to my friend for pointing out a major flaw with this story! I'm reposting it, fixed up. This story is a Brittas Empire fanfiction. Tim is 19 ish, and he and Gavin are not yet going out. I hope that you enjoy it, and that you take the time to critique me on my general writing style, and on the story itself. The rest of the story will be coming soon! Also I would like to say thankyou to the people who have been commenting on my other stories- I'm sorry that I write such short fictions, I hope that this will make up for it, it's many times longer than my usual pieces. I write such short stories because that is what pops into my mind, and also I have many projects on the go and short pieces are often all I have time for, or it's all it takes to get me 'unstuck' on some of my other, original stories. I hope that you like this story!

* * *

He gripped the quilt instinctively, trying to stop the desperate quivering in his fingers. He gripped with white-knuckled, palm-piercing urgency, as if it would save him from this feeling. His fingers could no longer move, so his shoulders took up the cause.

_Get a hold of yourself. There's nothing to be afraid of._

_Yet._

He closed his eyes and bit the inside of his cheek. 'Think of something nice' he commanded to his brain.

He took a few deep breaths.

His heart still fluttered like a hummingbird, as if it would burst from his chest and fly away from him. A hummingbird that would spurt blood all over his room, leaving him to die on the floor, alone.

He took another shuddering breath_. Just do it._

_I have to do this to get what I want._

He imagined his mother's surprised face, her disapproval, and her worrying about him, his intentions and his future. His very survival, even. _Oh God._

He let go of the quilt, and ran his fingers through his hair, pulling at it, before flopping over backwards on the bed and curling himself up in a ball. He reached out and picked up one of his childhood teddy bears, hugging it close to his chest. The changes this would bring to his life. To his Mum's life. Would he be able to cope? She had always said she'd help him, no matter what. He guessed that she'd suspected and anticipated this for a while now. He'd been dropping hints. Sometimes by accident. He'd been asking questions, testing the water. But actually telling her… perhaps it was a little early. The possible reactions still scared him. _He_ scared him. He was afraid of all the things he'd leave behind, and all the new things he'd have to face. The start of something new. The end of all that was familiar.

And she might get upset. _I can't do it. She loves me too much. I'll do it in a few years, when I'm more prepared. And I'm not even sure. _

"Yes you are" an internal voice told him.

"No. I'm not," he whispered to the bear. He turned his head and looked over at himself in the mirror on the wardrobe. His hair was erratic and his eyes wide and full of tears. He looked like a child. He felt like a child. He looked at himself for a long time, not moving.

The only sound was his shuddering breaths and the clock ticking on the wall.

Tick.

Tick.

Tick.

The passing of time. The passing of opportunities. The last few seconds of life as he knew it.


	2. Cord winding and support

Disclaimer: I do not own The Brittas Empire or its characters, nor am I receiving any money for writing this.

A/N: As promised, here is the rest of it, and I hope that you like it. And I'd love some reviews. Thanks for the few comments I recieved through msn etc!

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He felt like he could not stand it any more. He rolled off the bed hitting the floor at a jog, and ran out of his bedroom, wiping his eyes on the back of his hand. He grabbed the phone and stretched the cord so that it would go back to his room. He shut himself in again and dialled a number he knew by heart. He waited for the familiar voice to answer. _Hurry up… Pick up the phone… _He paced up and down a few steps, both desperate to talk and dreading it, afraid of anger. 

"Hello?"

He didn't wait. "Gavin? I can't do it!" He burst out, his voice cracking. He slid down the back of the door and sat slumped, his head hanging.

"Tim…" Gavin's voice was soothing, comforting, caring. "You don't have to, I'll understand. It's not as if I won't see you anymore," he said softly, knowing immediately what Tim was talking about, and that he was upset.

Silence. The clock ticked.

"I'm scared."

"So was I, when I did it. But I'm fine now. You'll be fine too."

Tim wound the cord around his finger. His voice reassured him slightly. And it was true, Gavin did seem fine now.

There was silence again.

"Hey. Your Mum has met me- I think she liked me. That'll make it easier. She's your mother. Don't worry, Timmy. She won't be insulted or disappointed. And if it's something you want, you're going to have to tell her, so that you can _get_ what you want. You're almost twenty now. You'll have to tell her sometime soon anyway. And I know how restricted you feel sometimes. I want you to be able to be yourself, one day. But you don't have to do it now. Like I said, I understand."

Tim sat, pressing his back hard against the door, not really wanting to talk, just thinking, and let the ideas wash over his mind yet again. What did he want? What would happen? What would he lose if he did? And, what would he lose if he didn't?

Gavin spoke again, very quietly. "Whatever happens- I won't abandon you."

Tim's heart lurched at his best friend's words. No one else understood him like Gavin seemed to. He gripped the phone as tightly as he would have hugged Gavin if he were there.

Maybe he wanted it _now._ Maybe.

"So… how're you feeling? Are you going to do it?"

Tim broke his silence, letting out the breath he was holding. He made a decision. "Yeah. I'm going to do it."

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. And Gavin was right, he would be able to be himself more.

"Gavin?" he asked.

"Yeah?"

"Thanks." Gavin always knew what to say, how Tim wanted to be convinced, how to make him feel safe.

"You're welcome. That's what I'm here for. And don't worry, you'll be fine. Come on over tonight and tell me how it went. Or come sooner, if you have to."

Tim's lips turned up into a tiny smile at how enthusiastic and yet caring and sincere he sounded. "Sure will. Bye then."

The phone clicked as he replaced the receiver. He stood up, and stared at his reflection.

Now or never.

He wiped the remaining tears away from his eyes, and made himself smile, be positive. And then walked out the bedroom door.

He marched right into the living room and stood in the middle of the floor. His mum looked up from her book in surprise. His gaze flicked to her, and he struggled to keep his resolve.

"Mum? I … I have something to tell you."

She looked at him and put down her novel. She nodded; looking worried, but glanced at him again with a strange expression that Tim could not quite place. Mum smiled and patted the couch next to her, but Tim sat on the chair on the other side of the room, right on the edge, pulling himself as small as he could.

Tim bit his lip. "Now, please hear me out. I know you might not agree with this. But… You know that I've been good friends with Gavin Featherly for quite a while now…" She watched him quietly. He hoped her reaction wouldn't be too emotional. But he just had to get it over with now. He'd miss out on a lot if he didn't.

He half turned away from her, and spoke in a rush. "Well, you know we've been friends for a while now… and… one of his two flatmates just moved out, and he was wondering if I want to be his new roommate? I… I think I want to move out of home." He winced, waiting for her to start ranting at him. But when he opened his eyes she was looking at him with a strange mixture of relief and frustration, before this disappeared and she enfolded him in her arms.

Tim shut his eyes again and sighed, thankful that it was over. His heart rate went slowly back to normal and he started to relax for the first time in weeks.

And he decided that the day he chooses to tell her the other thing would be far off in the future.

He'd be more likely to die of a heart attack than his Mum.

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Don't kill me. :D It's cute anyway, right? I think it is. Poor guy, you just want to hug him. Now, please tell me what you thought! About the idea, about my writing style... 


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